


I’m Calling You ‘Boyfriend,’ WTF?

by redreaper86



Series: farrelldano stuff [3]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Donuts, Duct Tape, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Stuffing, Sweet/Hot, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redreaper86/pseuds/redreaper86
Summary: Paul gives Colin the sweetest Valentine's Day ever!
Relationships: Paul Dano/Colin Farrell
Series: farrelldano stuff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061561
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	I’m Calling You ‘Boyfriend,’ WTF?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foggys_cupcake_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/gifts).



> This was supposed to be posted on Valentine's Day, but it seems oddly fitting that it should be posted on Fat Tuesday instead! Vaguely inspired by Machine Gun Kelly's music video with Megan Fox, _Bloody Valentine_.
> 
> Trigger warnings for past abusive relationships mentioned

With his final day of filming having wrapped up yesterday, Colin is enjoying sleeping in. He’s shaved his horrible haircut all the way off, has had a good long soak in the tub the night before. He is currently in that deliciously fuzzy place between asleep and awake when he feels warm soft breath tickle his face. Slowly, his eyes flutter open to see a pair of pretty green eyes staring back at him. 

“Morning sleepyhead.” Paul murmurs, reaching up to trace Colin’s jawline. Colin leans into the touch and tries to reach up to do the same to Paul --

“Oh, what the bloody shite,” Colin blurts out, as he sees his wrists bound together with hot pink duct tape. “Paul, mate, don’t tell me you’ve gone Full Jared?!”

“Who?” Paul squints adorably at him in confusion, then recognition set in and he shakes his head. “No, I’m not ‘pulling a Leto,’ as you call it. I’m just celebrating Valentine’s Day with you. You said you were up for anything I wanted to try. I wanna try bondage.”

“I thought you meant, like -- pineapples on pizza --”

Paul bursts out laughing. “That’s your idea of _adventurous_?” he giggles. “Wow. Gotta say, I expected more of you, Mr. I-Made-My-Own-Sex-Tape.”

“Ahh, well, I thought that atrocious pizza toppings was your idea of adventurous,” Colin says, feeling his face heat up at the mention of his sex tape, as it never failed to do.

Paul drops his jaw comically. “Oh, see now you’ve insulted me.”

“I have, have I?” Colin asks, fighting his grin.

“Mm-hm,” Paul crawls over Colin, nuzzling his face into his neck. “I’m grievously offended. Thoroughly miffed.

“Perturbed, even.”

“Oh, no, not perturbed,” Colin teases, even as he tilts his head to give Paul better access to his throat. He slips his bound hands under Paul’s tank top and gently scrabbles at the smooth skin there, eliciting squirms and giggles from the younger man but no attempts at escape. “However can I make it up to you, love?”

“Just…” Paul brings his face close to Colin’s, cupping his hands around Colin’s newly shaved head, massaging his scalp with his fingertips, to the other man’s immense pleasure -- he arched into Paul’s touch like a shameless housecat. “Just let me be the one to spoil you today, baby? Whatever you want, just tell me…”

Ohh, it is tempting, yes, it is… 

Colin remembers when Paul first trusted him to make him feel better, when the latter was so depressed and lonely during those terrifying two weeks that Rob had tested positive for Covid. The way the younger man had broken down in Colin’s arms, had been brave enough to ask him to just touch him -- to tickle him to be exact. The poor little thing had been so embarrassed to ask that particular request of Colin -- as though gentle physical teasing was somehow something perverse. 

Or worse, silly.

Colin had quickly set Paul straight about it though, reassuring him that he wasn’t wrong or ridiculous for just wanting something that made him feel safe, made him feel loved. 

Heaven knew Colin of all people could understand that. “Well,” he says, blushing as he hears the sheepishness in his own voice, “there is one thing…just, please -- keep an open mind.”

“Of course,” Paul gives a little smile and a frown at the same time, as though to say: would you expect anything less of me? Colin’s heart aches that he might’ve hurt Paul, made him think he didn’t trust him -- after everything they’ve both been through together.

But Colin’s been burned before when he’s opened up to others about his particular (and peculiar) predilection. One person just laughed at him and shook their head. The other person tried it with him and took it way too far. After that last incident Colin has been very wary about telling anyone his secret.

As well he might be. Colin’s particular fetish is a lot more complicated than Paul’s kink for being tickled. And it carries a great deal more stigma, as well as misinformation and stereotyping. And it attracts predators, who will take advantage of a person’s trust and take the kink way too far.

And it involves a lot more than just dexterous fingers on ticklish flesh…

Colin takes a deep breath and tells Paul. 

“And it’s okay if you don’t want to do it, if you aren’t into it,” he says, because it’s important that Paul knows that right off the bat. “In fact, I’d much rather hear you refuse me now than wait until we’re in the middle of the scene.”

“I can see how that would be awkward,” Paul smiles shyly, taking Colin’s bound hands and looping them around his neck before laying his head on Colin’s chest. “And I think I am into it,” he says. “At least I will be with you. Can I…ask what you like about it? Feederism?”

Colin feels his heart lurch. “Uhm, first…if we could just not call it that…it brings up -- uh, less than pleasant memories…”

“Oh god -- sorry, baby,” Paul squeezes Colin tight around the waist. “I didn’t mean to trigger any past trauma --”

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Colin laughs, sliding his wrists down Paul’s back. “My past experience with it was hardly trauma. Deeply awkward? Yes. But hardly traumatic.”

“Okay…” Paul says, not sounding convinced. Colin doesn’t blame him a bit, especially as how he, Colin, is not fully convinced himself. 

“As for what I like about it -- well…” Colin trails off. He’s actually never tried to articulate what the appeal for him is about someone hand-feeding him until he is stuffed. No one had ever asked him like that before, so seriously, so earnestly. “What do you, y’know, like about your thing -- about tickling?”

Paul takes a deep breath and holds it, really considering the question. Colin’s lips twitch with a tiny smile at how enduring that one little trait is…someone just actually being quiet for once and really thinking about something Colin’s asked them, as opposed to rattling off an answer -- flippant, flirty and ultimately vapid. 

And unlike the majority (if not all) of the other people Colin’s known and known in a biblical sense, Paul is the opposite of vapid.

“I feel it’s kinda like as close as someone to get to someone else…without, y’know…um…” Paul trails off and Colin can feel the gears working in the younger man’s head as he fights to supply the right word.

“Sex?” Colin supplies. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Paul says quickly, like he does in interviews when he is trying to articulate something he cares deeply about. “Like, but almost more intimate…than even, y’know, that. With the potential to be…like, I’m not explaining it great, but --”

“No, no, I get what you’re sayin’,” Colin says, smoothing his bound hands up and down Paul’s back again, relishing the scratchiness of the latter’s shirt on the delicate undersides of his wrists. “It’s the trust and the awkwardness of asking someone to do something like that to you, or letting someone do that to you --”

“Right, yeah -- exactly,” Paul says.

“Almost like taking the relationship to a higher plane of intimacy, as it were,” Colin says. “A more exclusive plane.”

“Right, ’cause a lot of people have sex,” Paul says. “It’s not that big a deal anymore.”

“Exactly,” Colin laughs. “That’s how I feel about my thing too, with being force-fed. Well, not _really_ force fed, but -- ”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” Paul says hurriedly, wedging his head under Colin’s chin, “And it, y’know, when you do my thing to me…”

“Tickle you, you mean?” Colin teases. 

“You know that’s what I mean, you jerk.” Paul squirms a little on top of Colin. “When you _tickle_ me,” he emphasising the word Colin loves to tease him about not being able to say, “it makes me feel safe, makes me feel loved.”

Colin dips his mouth to kiss the top of Paul’s head. “That’s how my thing makes me feel.”

“Stuffing?” Paul asks innocently.

Colin sighs. It ruffles Paul’s hair. “Yes, mate. Someone I trust stuffing me with food makes me feel safe and loved too.”

“And you trust me to do that for you?”

“I trust you with my life, little one.” Colin smiles as Paul nuzzles his face into Colin’s chest.

Five minutes later…

“Are you sure you’re not method acting the Riddler right now?” Colin teases as Paul duct tapes him to a kitchen chair not too tight around the wrists but thoroughly enough that Colin is well and truly stuck. 

They’ve both had breakfast and Paul has ordered up a dozen donuts to their room -- every one of them for Colin.

There is a sharp ripping sound as Paul bites off the end of the pink roll of tape and smooths the end down. His brow is slightly furrowed in concentration and if Colin’s arms weren’t bound, he would reach forward and cup the younger man’s chin in his hands. But, taped up as he is, all Colin can do is drink Paul in with his eyes. The younger man is wearing only Colin’s huge button-up shirt which looks like a mini dress on him. (It would have roughly the same effect on Colin, if he ever chose to wear it that way -- without pants -- but Colin is too embarrassed to. Paul does look amazing in it, though.) Colin shivers as Paul stands behind him, running his hands over his chest, leaning down until his mouth is at level with the older man’s ear. 

“Comfortable?” 

Somehow that single word, and all the myriad connotations that come with it, purred in Paul’s deep, soft voice, makes all of Colin’s blood migrate south.

“Snug as a bug in a rug,” Colin says, sounding more flippant than he feels. He gasps as Paul kisses him just behind the ear.

“Good.” Paul says, balancing his hands on Colin’s shoulders as he straddles Colin’s lap. “Now…” he pulls forward a plate piled high with gorgeous multicoloured donuts and picks up a pink one with sprinkles, “open wide…”

Colin winces at calorie-laden the piece of confectionery in Paul’s hand, and obeys. But as he takes a bite of it, he feels his initial panic melt away. This is Paul, and Colin trusts him. 

“How are you feeling?” Paul asks as Colin finishes the pink donut. Colin playfully licks Paul’s hand in answer, causing the latter to giggle and yank his hand away. “You want more, baby?” Paul murmurs, grabbing another donut, this time a chocolate one.

Colin does want more. And this time it is without shame that he takes a huge bite of it. As he does with the mint green one after that, the tangerine one after that and the caramel one after that…

“Wow, baby, you’re doing so good…” Paul murmurs, smoothing Colin’s stomach which is growing taut and round. “I love that you’re trusting me to do this. Can you take one more?”

Paul has done this several times through the scene, this dual praising of Colin and the solicitous asking if Colin can physically continue with what they are doing. It moves the older man, the absolute consideration Paul has for him -- so unlike his other partners. 

There’s only two donuts left but already Colin feels like a tick about to pop. “I…probably shouldn’t…” Colin winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. The other partner he tried this with had immediately smirked and insisted that he should and could and _would_. So Colin had and the results were physically and mentally painful. If he’d just been more specific…

Paul pushes the plate away and Colin feels an immense rush of relief that the younger man intuited on his own that Colin has had enough. Paul places his hands on either side of Colin’s face. “You did so good, baby,” he says, in that soft deep voice of his that Colin has grown to love so much. “So good. Thank you for trusting me with doing this to you.”

Tears sting the backs of Colin’s eyes, and he can’t hold back a sniff. He doesn’t know why he’s crying except that at last someone understands him, doesn’t judge or use him just gives him something he needs with no question. The fact that that someone is sweet and kind and adorable as Paul is -- well that’s just icing on the cake. Or sprinkles on the donut, as it were.

“You’re the one I should be thanking, sweetheart,” Colin murmurs, trying to blink his tears back which only gets them caught in his long eyelashes. “No one’s ever -- understood -- not really. Not like you.”

“Right back at you,” Paul murmurs between kisses all over Colin’s face, lingering by his mouth the most. “Now tell me what else you need…”

“Uhm…well,” Colin blushes, as he tries how exactly to put his request into words. Oh, to bleeding hell with it. “I could use a belly rub.”

“Hmm…” Paul murmurs, kissing his way along Colin’s jawline, “why ever would you need one of those, I wonder…”

Colin grins then gasps as Paul reaches down and rubs his stomach.

“Poor baby got a tummy ache?” Paul mocks as he softly kneads Colin’s overstuffed belly, causing the latter to groan and arch his back in pleasure. “Wonder how that could’ve happened.”

“I don’t know,” Colin says, doing his best innocent puppy-dog eyes (which are pretty darned adorable, if he does say so himself). “I mean, I eat like a bird.”

“You do eat like a bird,” Paul pokes Colin experimentally all over the tummy. “A turkey, to be precise.” The pokes soon devolve into gentle tickles and Colin dissolves into protesting laughter.

“Don’t torture me, you minx,” Colin giggles, squirming as Paul dances teasing fingers all over his swollen stomach. The duct tape bonds hold him firmly in place. “You know I can’t suck in!”

And it is torture, of the purest sort, to have oneself bound, stuffed and delicately tormented like this. The donuts are puffing Colin’s belly out, like a kind of bondage from the inside, and he can’t even suck in his gut one iota. All of which Colin knows Paul knows and is openly reveling in.

“Aww, can’t you?” Paul licks a hot wet stripe up Colin’s neck, right on the latter’s jugular vein. “How sad.”

“You’re evil, you know,” Colin moans as Paul kisses him down the neck, gently nibbling on the delicate skin there. He writhes again as a spike of pleasure pulses through his groin. His belly isn’t the only part of him close to bursting. 

“And you love it,” Paul says between kisses.

“Please, love -- I need to --” Colin gasps and squirms again as Paul slides his hand down Colin’s stomach, brushing the straining elastic waistband of his boxers and --

Stops. 

Colin whines, and bucks as much as the duct tape will allow him before Paul spreads his hand out on Colin’s stomach.

“Guess what my favourite part of your body is?” Paul asks, gently scratching Colin’s belly which growls contentedly under his touch.

Colin groans comically. “Something tells me my cock is taking second place in this competition…”

“Mm…” Paul muses, before sliding his hand into Colin’s boxers. “Let’s call it a tie.”

Colin shivers as his pretty co-star pleasures him while still sitting in his lap, the latter’s shaggy head leaning against his own shaved one.

It’s been the best Valentine’s Day Colin’s had in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the warnings: it is implied throughout the fic that Colin had an abusive partner that did not respect his boundaries and forced him to go through with eating more than he wanted to. By contrast, Paul is very solicitous to Colin's needs in the fic.


End file.
